I am pretty sure it is the Marburg virus. Cause it is totally more classy than tacky ol’ Ebola.

I have the hypochondria gene, well that is what my husband thinks, but I am more in the overly cautious a mouth ulcer is gum cancer and OMG what am I going to do with all of my lipstick if I have no damn lips camp.

Which is TOTALLY rational.

So today I decided to google ‘owwy owwy arm hurty symptoms that will kill me’ and discovered that I have the Marburg.

And that our house must have been broken into by ninja monkeys spreading their infectiousness.

I mean, to quote Prince and my girl White Trash Mom, dig if you will the symptoms:

fever – check

chills – uh huh

headache – holy shit yes!

Myalgia – WTF?

Oh My Freaking Gawd. I was bitching all week about being hot, thinking that it was because of the heatwave of the century with most days over 44C and half the state on FIRE but all along it was the monkey virus setting up camp. Then there was that time when I was having an ice cold shower to cool down from the fee-vah and I like, shivered.

Oh yeah. I have the Marburg people.

Then the whole headache thing. I was all ‘wow this headache is bad must be caffeine withdrawl cause it is too hot (see FEVER! FEVER stopped me from drinking my 8 buckets-o-latte!) or from the lack of sleep’ when all along I was multiplying another species in my small intestine.

And sweet mother of God what the FUCK is Myalgia. Sounds deadly. And totally someone with that shit should not be cleaning toilets or vacuuming or doing the grocery shopping. They should be sitting down on their laptop with minions bringing them chocolate brownie icecream that is in the small freezer, second shelf. Don’t forget a spoon.

OK. Stop panicking. Myalgia is ‘muscle pain’ hence the ‘owwy owwy arm hurty symptoms that will kill me’ google search that led me to my medical practitioner WrongDiagnosis.com. Because who can be bothered making a doctors appointment when I know that the fucker would have no idea about Marburg virus and I would have to educate him and explain it to him slowly how Dr Google knows more than his stoopid head medical school, such a bore, when I could be freaking the fuck out in the comfort of my own home watching Oprah and where is the damn spoon to go with my icecream?

Sheesh. No one cares about the sufferers anymore.

And now I am angry. Cause where is my support group? I see no ‘sufferers and survivors of Marburg Virus’ support groups on Yahoo and Google and what the hell? Am I supposed to go through this alone?

The more I read the more freaked out I become, because Orchitissounds very damn uncomfortable and I don’t do uncomfortable well.

But I am very very skilled at victim of rare exotic disease. With all the sighing and grimacing and ‘oh, I am OK, don’t worry about me and my rare exotic disease that needs chocolate brownie icecream that is in the small freezer, second shelf, don’t forget the spoon…’ THAT shit I have down.

Oh and did I mention that my Achilles heel is all ouchy? On both feet.

I think that Marburg shit is spreading.

Send icecream.

Holy shit! Dr Google now tells me that not only do I have the Marburg virus I have African Sleeping Sickness and a freaking yeast infection as well.

Send more icecream. And some yogurt.

**** Apparently Orchitis is inflamed testicles. So either I am a hermaphrodite or MPS is gunna start bitching and moaning some time soon. I am sure that is treated with the aforementioned chocolate icecream.

**** Apparently the Marbug virus, while being also known as Green Monkey virus is also spread by bats. BATS! I blame those fucking Damn Emos and their vampire Edward loving ways inviting freaking virus ridden vampires into our home. Bitches.

**** Apparently, some people believe I just have a sore fucking arm and I should stop whining. And to those people bringing this shit to my attention I say bite me, and bring me some chocolate brownie icecream. Don’t worry about the spoon, I will just lick it out of the tub.

I just have to say that I laughed out loud at the Dr. Google. My friend (who has cancer) told me “The doctor said that I’m going to be okay, it’s not that bad…blah, blah, blah.” and I’m all “You’re gonna die! I love you!” And then I came home and googled her cancer and would you believe she actually most likely will be okay? Then I emailed a mutual friend and told her the news and she reacted the same way “Oh, she’s gonna die!” then she googled it and emails me “Hey, WebMD says that it’s not that bad…she’ll probably make a full recovery.”

BWAHAHAHA! I need to wipe away a tear and dub this the funniest post evah! First, I love that Ninja monkey and am stealing his little image away….Second, I am also a Google MD. I have diagnosed myself with more itises and oses than have yet to be discovered.
I’m on my way and i’m bringing ice cream, yogurt and vats of coffee!

let me know if you find a palpable mass in your arm, I went to doctors and got ultrasounded and they could not find out what is making my arm hurty and have a palpable mass in it. And the chocolate ice cream didn’t even help. Maybe I have that damn Marburg virsus too….

I am laughing so hard I think I may have peed in my panties. You crack me up. Being a bit of a hypochondriac myself, I bet there is a test for all this crap (maybe google – be your own doctor, test yourself for diseases). Do you think that requires a scalpel or will a butter knife do?

I am always thinking I have some horrible ailment whenever I consult Dr. Google but I just can’t stop.

Do you think the sore arm could be from pointing vigorously to the freezer, second shelf? Kinda like tennis elbow? I truly think it’s an overuse injury. Your minions just don’t seem to be getting a clue about your needs.

I always consult Dr. Google before my real, live doctor. Because Dr. Google is way smarter and always tells me what I want to hear. Right now, I either have tuberculosis or something called the “common cold”. I’m leaning toward the former.

Duuude, I totally understand where you’re coming from. Make the most out of your illness while you can.
I just went out to have lunch with hubs before we went to visit MIL in hospital and while we were there I ALMOST had him convinced it would be a good idea if we both went, to where ever you’re supposed to go, and had our stomach’s pumped. We had eaten too much and were a bit miserably full. But, on the way out… I scored some fresh popcorn they were making in the hall. 😉

And I came here thinking I could hide from the cooties in my house! They ALL have it except for me, and I’m trying to keep it that way but the 2 year old wiping slippery slimy snot on my cheek with every kiss and every other surface in my house, I don’t know if I’ll make it with only 1 layer of skin left on my hands from all the cloroxing.YAY OCD!

PS – I had a similar arm pain that lasted long after the first boob job. Apparently after I came home and was put to bed I demanded B let me give him a BJ and he couldn’t fight me off from my recovery bed. Thankfully, I don’t remember a thing!